


Living Steel

by hatchlock



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Death, Gen, Ghosts, Horror, Murder, Supernatural Elements, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:26:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23663083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hatchlock/pseuds/hatchlock
Summary: Metal may have a life force...but you can't hurt steel.Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, where the costumes move at night.
Kudos: 7





	Living Steel

**Author's Note:**

> Few things I want to get out of the way before you begin reading:  
> 1\. In this story, FNAF 2 is a sequel  
> 2\. Every game past FNAF 3 are not canon to this fic, although elements from those games may be used  
> 3\. This is completely unrelated to my TOP series, although some characters and ideas may be shared

> “ _I’ll be honest, I never liked that puppet thing. It’s always...thinking, and it can go anywhere…_ ”  
> \- The Phone Guy, **_Five Nights at Freddy’s 2_**

Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza was known far and large for its cutting-edge animatronic characters and famously mediocre cheese pizza. It was loved by children and tolerated by parents for providing a truly interesting experience like no other restaurant. Even the adults had to admit that while the food wasn’t anything to write home about, the animatronics were strangely delightful. They were a heavy step up from the old robots from the old Freddy’s. These ones were made with the latest technology, including impressive safety features such as being linked up to criminal databases. They were capable of quickly comparing prison mugshots to people in front of them, and when they couldn’t identify a potential predator by mugshot, they would detect suspicious behavior and ask for identification. Once caught, the predator would be removed from the premises and permanently banned from the establishment.

Rumors had a way of popping up about things, however. They always have, always will. Some of the older children shared horrible stories of gruesome, violent attacks from the animatronics. Stories of night-workers being attacked in the middle of the night and stuffed into the animatronic suits - of course, not all the children were aware of the fact that the robots were, indeed, robots. Which was presumably the reason why these rumors were quickly shut down by the establishment, although never legally or officially, but rather on a case-by-case basis by employees.

While these new animatronics boasted handsome suits and top-class technology, older models _did_ still exist on the property. Rotting in the shadows and lurking just out of sight, there was an old Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy sitting in the backroom, just barely active. It was depressing to watch a helpless AI squirm, but the employees had to keep reminding themselves that those rumors were just that; rumors. Relics of an old restaurant long forgotten by customers. 

After all, anybody who did remember them was sure not to come back.

Not after 1987.

* * *

**July 6, 2001  
** _Three days before the grand re-opening_

A group of workers were working together to carry long crates through the back-doors of the new Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. Sweat dribbled down their faces as they struggled to keep the boxes up. Theodore Fazz, the restaurant owner, watched with amusement as the workers had to set down the boxes every few seconds to catch their breath and get a grip.

“Heavy, eh?” asked Mr. Fazz.

“Heh, yeah. What’re in these things anyway? Cinder bricks?” asked one of the workers.

Mr. Fazz walked alongside the workers as they hauled the box through the door. “Not quite,” he chuckled. “Those are the robots I’ve been talking about.”

“Robots, huh?” the worker managed to choke out with a smile. “Like, what the other chains have? The ones that sing?”

Fazz grinned. “They can do a lot more than that! You all keep this work up, we can have them up and running for the crowds in two or three days!”

“Well boss, no guarantees other than that we’ll try,” the worker sighed as the crew set down the box. He stretched out his back and looked around. “You know, my kids have always liked places like this, like that one with the cat. I think I’ll take ‘em around here sometime.”

“Heh, you know me too well. I’ll give your family discounts for your help,” said Fazz.

“Hey, I appreciate that, boss,” the worker said. “You want this box over with the others?”

“Let me see,” said Fazz. He counted the boxes up on stage. “There isn’t supposed to be more…” 

“There are a few more, actually,” said the worker. 

Fazz lifted the top off the crate and looked inside, then grimaced and quickly slammed the crate shut. He ran his hand through his hair nervously. 

“Uh-oh. Did we mess up?” the worker asked.

“I thought I told you boys to bring the old models over to the storage place?” said Fazz. “These aren’t supposed to be here.”

“Sorry, boss. Slipped my mind, I guess. We’ll take it out,” the worker replied.

Fazz sighed. “No, no. It’s fine. Here, look, you can just take them backstage.”

“You sure? You seem pretty bent up about whatever’s in there.”

“No, it’s fine. Really. It’s getting late, don’t want you boys working here too late,” said Fazz.

The workers resumed work and began taking the boxes over to the backroom, one by one. They were significantly heavier than the ones that they had taken to the show stage, which supposedly contained the new animatronic models that the company had been hyping up for the past few months. 

Mr. Fazz stood outside the building and lit up a cigarette. It had been years since he looked at any of those old models, the ones that caused so much pain so many years ago. He wasn’t there to oversee the animatronics being boxed up - he didn’t _want_ to see them at all. He never wanted to see them again. He just wanted to forget.

The workers all walked out the backdoors. The one that Fazz had been talking with earlier that evening walked up to him. 

“Well, we’re done for the day, boss,” the man said. “See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow. Payday is Friday,” said Mr. Fazz. 

The men walked away and drove off in their trucks, leaving the restaurant owner alone. He sighed and took another drag on his cigarette. He needed to open the restaurant as soon as possible. Almost the entirety of his budget was spent on engineering the new animatronic endoskeleton designs that allowed for the new features, such as their new facial recognition abilities. The new robots weren’t finished, however - and he couldn’t afford all the new parts required. The only viable solution would be to recycle parts from the old models. Unfortunately.

Props and decorations had to be borrowed from the old locations to save money, as well. The wooden pizzas that used to be on the ruined bathroom walls were now hung around the Kid’s Cove attraction, and just about every banner in the restaurant was taken from storage. Even the fan from the old security office was now set up in Fazz’s new office. 

Mr. Fazz walked back into the restaurant. It was dark. He shuddered at the thought of being alone in the dark in a Freddy’s. He had to remind himself that the new animatronics had much more advanced programming, and that any of the bugs that had been present in the previous endoskeleton designs were now fixed entirely. Besides, these robots had Fazz’s face registered. 

He walked through from the dining area through the hallway, up to the backstage room. He shut the door and turned the lock. He knew they were turned off, but he was wary of those old things.

Fazz took a turn down the hall and stepped into a large, spacious area with spare monitors piled up in the corners. Drawings of the building’s attractions littered the walls - they were admittedly quite terrible, and they were sent in by children excited for the pizzeria’s opening. A desk stood in the middle of the room with a tablet on it. This was the same system he had in the old restaurant, a security tablet hooked up to cameras all over the establishment. He would always have a clear view of the animatronics.

The thing that scared him most about re-opening was that the animatronics were going to be given free-roaming privileges. In the old establishment, the robots had been stripped of that ability after the Bite. Fazz still wasn’t quite sure if allowing these new robots these permissions would be appropriate or not. On the one hand, it makes for much more entertaining performances from the machines. On the other hand, if anything like the Bite were to happen again, he might not be able to weasel himself or his company out of the wrath of the law again. 

Fazz was optimistic, though. The new animatronics were brilliant. The building was riddled with fun stuff you didn’t find anywhere else. Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza was technologically unmatched by any other pizza chain. And the performer’s abilities to recognize criminals was outstanding. It should’ve been the safest place on Earth.

It felt like it was missing something, though. It had everything it needed to be a fun pizza place, but he knew in his heart he was missing something important. He just couldn’t place his finger on what.

He began to drift off at his desk, thinking about the coming days before it finally hit him. The Puppet! That old marionette that he had in the first location. It had been retired for years, but Freddy’s wasn’t the same after he disabled it for making the staff uncomfortable. He took out his cell phone and dialed the number of the worker he had been talking with earlier that evening.

“Smith residence,” came the voice on the phone.

“Hey, uh, this is Teddy Fazz,” said Fazz.

“Mr. Fazz? I just got home.”

“Yeah, yeah. No, I don’t need you back at work, I wanted to ask about something though,” Fazz said.

“Alright, shoot,” said the worker.

“Do you recall seeing this, uh, puppet thing? Tall, thin,” said Fazz, desperately trying to picture it in his own head.

“Oh, uh, the one with the make-up? Kinda clownish? I think it’s still at the old place,” said the worker. “You need it?”

“Uh...yeah, just wanted to know. Don’t worry about it, I’ll take care of it,” said Fazz excitedly. He never thought he’d find himself excited to go to that old place. Besides, it was free of any and all animatronics. 

Nothing to be afraid of. There wasn’t anything to fear at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza.

Fazz climbed into his dijon-yellow company car with the soon-to-be iconic Freddy head logo icon painted upon it, with a red stripe wrapping around the vehicle’s sides. The head was very recently re-painted with red blush marks and new shades of brown to match the new model’s colors. The windows were tinted black so that passerby wouldn’t be able to see inside and recognize him. After what happened in 1987, Fazz tried to stay out of the local eye while those stories were fresh on everyone’s mind. He wanted to ditch the company car entirely, but the incidents left him in such a financial mess that he wasn’t able to afford to keep his other one. As a result, he was forced to start driving the company alternative primarily. He would’ve gotten the logo painted over if he legally could have.

He finally caught the eyes of the Freddy head on the tall lit sign that still stood high outside the old location. Fazz groaned as he realized that he still needed to have it taken down, now that it was closed and he was trying to leave it in their past. He just didn’t have the money or resources.

The restaurateur pulled into the parking lot and parked lazily in the middle of the road. He shivered as he looked at the old building and grabbed a large flashlight out of his glove box. It definitely wasn’t very impressive in comparison to modern restaurants - every other notable pizzeria in the area was larger, had more activities, and better robots. He went up to the steel doors, groaned, and turned his key. He pushed the door open, and felt goosebumps crawl up his back as the creaking sound reverberated throughout the building. 

Cobwebs draped every dark corner of the abandoned rooms. He noticed that walls were stained, counters were dirty, and some tiles in the checkered floor were even cracked from years of abuse and neglect. All the decorations that made Freddy’s special were missing - either packed up in storage indefinitely or currently in use at the new location. Fazz thought he would’ve been satisfied to see this cursed establishment, this horrible chamber that caused him and so many families so much pain, _finally_ empty and abandoned. But he couldn’t help but feel a sense of sadness seeing this restaurant that used to be loved, now forgotten and neglected…the show stage, once a display of his life’s proudest accomplishments, was now empty of those old animatronics. Now sitting in a backroom in an entirely different location collecting dust, waiting to lose more of their parts to those new models. As much as he hated the memories this old place brought back, deep down, he did miss the old days in a sense. 

He shook his head. This location broke families apart, and ruined his life both socially and financially. In order to look forward, he had to move on from this restaurant and focus on what was best for its success. And in this case, that meant Fazz needed to get that puppet he came for.

He took the flashlight and pointed it over at the employees-only backroom. He entered and looked around. It was strange to see this room completely clean. Old suit masks used to line the shelves and there was a large, unused bare robot skeleton sitting atop the backstage worktable, but it was now gone. Fazz marched to the other side of the room and opened the door to a utility closet. Something seemed to grip his arms as he opened the door, and he felt a great rush of panic as he slipped and fell on his back.

Fazz saw something white and monstrous hanging above his body - and it appeared to be floating. He gasped and scrambled to find his flashlight which had fallen onto the floor along with him. He found it and shoved it between the beast’s eyes as he pressed the button. The torch failed to illuminate, and the monster only appeared to growing larger and seemed to be closing in on him - he quickly unscrewed the bottom of the light and grabbed a battery on the floor nearby. This was how he would die. His entire body broke out into goose-flesh as he felt the demon’s cold, clammy breath over his face like frost on grass. The mind-numbing rumble of the power generator quickly began to synchronize with the beat of his heart. Fazz shoved the battery into the flashlight and held it in place with his thumb. He pressed the button and closed his eyes. 

A thin, lifeless marionette fell onto Fazz’s belly, entirely limp. He clenched his chest and rolled over onto his side, pushing the puppet off of him. Fazz felt sick to his stomach. He slowly got to his feet, dusted himself off, and began to drag the puppet back to his car.

There was nothing to fear at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. 

Nothing at all.


End file.
